🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 13
The moment Baek Seon’s pale torso was suddenly revealed, before he could even feel embarrassed, Cheonrang’s face twisted.
“Was it then… that they planted the poison?”
“Poison?”
Baek Seon lowered his head. The place where the pain radiated was already turning purple.
“This is why those poison bastards….”
Muttering a curse under his breath, Cheonrang leaned down without hesitation and pressed his lips against Baek Seon’s wound.
“Cheonrang…! Nngh!”
He didn’t even know what kind of poison it was. Still, without a moment’s pause, he put his mouth to it.
“Ch-Cheonrang, you mustn’t…! If you’re poisoned too, what will—ah!”
Baek Seon’s protest was cut short by a stabbing pain that shot from his crown down his body. The poison was being drawn out, leaving behind a sharp, aching burn.
When Baek Seon instinctively tried to push Cheonrang’s head away, Cheonrang lifted his gaze, his eyes heavy and unyielding.
“Worry about yourself.”
“If you die, I’ll kill Dang Jinmyeong and burn the entire Tang family to the ground.”
His voice was thick with sincerity, and Baek Seon’s lips parted involuntarily. He wasn’t yet part of the Demonic Sect, hadn’t yet grown strong through fortune or opportunity. But still, why did it feel like Cheonrang’s presence alone was enough to overwhelm him?
“So stay still.”
Cheonrang buried his face back into the wound. His lips pressed against Baek Seon’s collarbone, sucking the poison out. The heat of it left Baek Seon trembling.
“S-stop, Cheonrang! It’s enough…!”
But Cheonrang deliberately let out a loud slurp as he spat the tainted blood onto the ground. Then, extending his tongue, he slowly licked the fresh blood trailing down Baek Seon’s collarbone.
Baek Seon’s breath hitched. Cheonrang wasn’t the boy he once remembered—his tall frame, the bulging veins across his hands, the shadowed lashes that deepened his gaze—everything screamed of a grown man.
When Cheonrang finally raised his head, there was a faint trace of satisfaction in his dark eyes.
“Your face is red, Tang Baek Seon.”
“W-what?!”
“It’s cold. Button up, unless you want me to help with that too.”
Startled, Baek Seon pulled his robe up quickly. The sharp pain in his chest had completely disappeared.
But his cheeks still burned. He pressed a cold hand against them, trying to calm his racing thoughts.
‘Why… why does he suddenly look so handsome?’
Five years had passed. Cheonrang’s boyishness had long since vanished, replaced with a sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and large, steady hands. But beyond his looks, there was something else.
“Sometimes I don’t know if I’ve kept a child by my side, or a true friend.”
“I just… wish you’d stop hurting.”
Cheonrang stepped closer and gently patted Baek Seon’s head.
Baek Seon’s heart stirred strangely. For the first time, he felt accepted not as Master Manyugang’s vessel, not as a role, but as himself.
“Cheonrang.”
“What.”
“You once said you thought I was the ‘precious bond’ your master spoke of.”
“I did.”
“If… if I’m not that person, what then?”
Would he abandon him? Would he kill him for being Dang Jinmyeong’s pawn?
Cheonrang chuckled softly.
“Is that what’s been eating you up? That if my master said otherwise, I’d leave you?”
“I… yes. Maybe.”
“Don’t worry.”
“That will never happen.”
It wasn’t a long explanation, but it was enough. Baek Seon knew then: Cheonrang had accepted him. Not because of a dead man’s words, but because of his own choice.
“So. You’re not going to answer me?”
“Answer what?”
“I said—stop getting hurt.”
Cheonrang lightly poked Baek Seon’s forehead. A strange joy bubbled up in Baek Seon’s chest.
“I’ll… be careful.”
Embarrassed, Baek Seon looked away.
In his past life as Manyugang, he had been the strongest under heaven—immune to all poisons. But in this fragile body, pain felt raw and humiliating. Still, Cheonrang remained by his side, guarding him as if to repay some old debt.
“Cheonrang.”
“What.”
“Thank you.”
The warmth of pure kindness, coming from Cheonrang of all people, made Baek Seon smile faintly.
Seeing that smile, Cheonrang looked away abruptly.
“It’s nothing.”
But his stomach churned with a strange heaviness.
Later that day, over a meal, disaster nearly struck again.
A servant had prepared food for Baek Seon, and the moment he ate, he tasted it—poison.
“Who dares try to kill me with this?”
He seized the servant by the throat.
“Y-young master! Cough! I-it’s the food you always eat…!”
Baek Seon froze.
The original “Poison Prince,” Tang Baek Seon, had mixed poison into every meal of his life. He even fed it to guests, refusing to befriend anyone who couldn’t survive it.
Baek Seon didn’t mind ingesting it himself—this body had resistance—but if Cheonrang had eaten it? The thought made his blood boil.
Hours later, the two sat across from each other with untainted dishes.
Cheonrang chuckled.
“The way you grab someone’s throat the moment you’re angry… reminds me of someone.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Just saying the food’s good. Though with poison, it might’ve had more bite.”
Baek Seon forced a laugh, though unease still gnawed at him.
‘If I keep this up, he’ll discover I’m not really Tang Baek Seon.’
Best to act clueless. To play the fool, even.
“Keep eating, Cheonrang. I’ll step out for a while.”
The moment Baek Seon set down his chopsticks, Cheonrang stood up as well.
“Where are you going?”
